


Neuropathy

by orphan_account



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Child Neglect, Children, Gay Robots, Growing Up Together, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Self-Mutilation, because apparently thats a tag lel, kind of bc clear might as well be a small child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz's parents were not prepared for a child like him.</p>
<p>Instead, they made sure that Clear was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His name is Clear.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a fun side project for me, so there won't be any update schedule or anything!
> 
> in this, instead of SUPER YAOI VIDYA MAGIC messing with noiz, he actually suffers from CIPA. i'm going to attempt to portray this as accurately as possible, so sorry if i get anything wrong!!
> 
> un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prologue is really, really short sorry! it just felt kinda weird to mash it in with the first chapter, so uh yeah

     When R-2E-054 opened his eyes for the first time, it had been to white walls, a white floor, and white-clad hands on his body.  
     When R-2E-054 opened his eyes for the second time, it had been to black walls, a black floor, and people watching him once again.  
     This time, the first thing he did was look down at his hands, his feet, then back up again. The soft cushion under him let him know that he was on a couch, an expensive one at that. His clothes were no different than the ones he had woken up in, at the very least.  
     A cough from a few feet away commanded R-2E-054's attention next, and his head snapped back up to focus on the abrupt sound. There were people here. Of course there would be, he chastised himself, why else would you be awake now? There was a man, a woman- and two children, one of which was busy hiding behind his mother's leg.  
     Everything here looked so... nice. R-2E-054 almost felt like, somehow, he would only dirty anything here he touched. He didn't want to risk getting his filth all over the furniture, and so he stood up, stiffly letting his arms rest by his sides.

     "Hello." _When you are greeting a human, you should say 'hello'._

     The man's eyes narrowed, just the slightest bit, and he stepped forward, reducing their distance apart to approximately just over a meter.  
      _When introduced to your family for the first time, you should begin your pre-installed initialization speech._

     "My serial number is R-2E-054," he began, bowing a fair 73 degrees before returning to his upright position. "I'm so glad you woke me up, Master." His lips quirked up into a small smile, eyes trained on who he assumed was the head of the household. The smaller child grasped his mother more tightly, and the older one only glared. "As soon as you finish my initialization and personalization processes, I can begin servicing you." (For a moment, he wondered if maybe his default language had been set to the wrong one.)  
     The man stepped back, leaning down to push the child in front of him forward. He must've been eight at the oldest, but already his exposed skin was marred with scars and burns, a Spiderman Band-Aid haphazardly slapped across his cheek.

     "Is he mine?" The question was aimed at the boy's father, and so R-2E-054 did not answer, only observing the pair. The child's voice was nearly monotone, aside from the slight German accent, something that confused the android. Children were usually so cheerful...

     "Yes, he is. Wilhelm, what are you going to name him?"

 _Wilhelm._ R-2E-054 made sure to note it in his facial recognition database, his eyes meeting Wilhelm's as the child opened his mouth.

     "His name is Clear."


	2. My name is Clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha wow uh its been a few months  
> ive had half this chapter written up for a while but i just got got the inspiration to finish it
> 
> sorry to everyone who wanted me to continue this omf

      "My name is Clear." The phrase felt more than foreign on his tongue as he registered it in his databanks. Really, he just assumed it was because he had never had a name before– not that he'd been 'alive' for very long, anyways. It filled him with a strange and emulated sense of pride, so Clear just smiled.  
     Wilhelm did not smile back.

     "I'm taking him to my room."

     His parents didn't reply, and neither did the brother, leaving a small knot, two parts unease, one part confusion, curling in Clear's stomach. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting his new family to be like, but he was relatively sure it wasn't this. Wilhelm's little hand wrapped around Clear's wrist, his expression unreadable as he led the android along.  
     Clear had half a mind to remind the child about the whole, you know, initialization process, but somehow he had a feeling that would only end up with him being lashed out at, so he kept quiet instead. The house was large, anyhow, and Clear's circuits were more than a tad busy trying to map out what he could of the mansion. He exhaled the warmed air from his cooling unit, keeping close to Wilhelm as they ascended the staircase. His body temperature was heightening. He'd have to monitor that for the next few hours. He was pretty sure human children didn't normally heat up like this.

     "This is my room." Wilhelm spoke quickly and matter-of-factly as he pushed open the door at the end of the hall, neglecting to even turn around to look up at Clear. What a funny kid.

     His 'room' was bigger than any of even the master bedrooms he'd been shown during his factory activation, with an array of toys and electronics scattered around the floor. His computer setup was fairly astonishing of someone for such a young age... as was the sheer amount of trash and laundry laying around. He would have to clean up the place later, when he had time. Hopefully, he wouldn't be in charge of taking care of the whole mansion himself! At least, the only other ALLmate and ALLpha wavelengths he was picking up were that of the rabbit cubes around Wilhelm's desk...  
     Wilhelm sat down at his chair, little legs (he hated to put such an emphasis on this, but Noiz was so small!) kicking as he pulled himself closer to the desk. Of course, Clear followed, standing quietly beside him. He preoccupied himself partly with monitoring Wilhelm's vitals for now, watching as the boy interacted with his ALLmates, first hooking up one of the Usagimodoki models to his computer, and then pulling up its files.  
     He would give himself a few more minutes to watch, then he would say something. He just... couldn't do anything until he was given instructions. The whole ordeal was a little stressful, and even now he felt jumpy knowing that he had no orders to perform.  
     Wilhelm spent ten minutes and thirty seven seconds fiddling with the ALLmate's info, before he pulled the cord from the Usagimodoki, looking up and wordlessly holding it out to Clear. Oh.  
     He eyed the child for a moment, before popping open the collar of his shirt. The hatch near his jugular flipped open at his command, and he watched as his human companion inserted the cord into it. He had to lean down, since the cord was rather short and so was Wilhelm, but it worked.

     "If you don't mind my asking— what are you doing, Wilhelm?"

     "Noiz."

     Clear paused. "I'm sorry, can you rephrase that?" _When unable to process a conversational response, state it politely._

     "My name is Noiz."

     "Of course. I'm sorry, Noiz. What are you doing?"

     "I'm completing your startup manually." This kid was barely around eight; Clear was pretty sure eight year old children shouldn't be capable of talking like that. He was certainly not prepared for some kind of prodigy child!

     "Oh." Clear pressed his lips into a thin line, watching as Wilhelm-- no, Noiz scrolled through the robot's files. The bot was pretty sure a lot of the things he was entering were custom... he wouldn't say anything, though. In all honesty, he was a bit busy being entirely awed by Noiz's coding ability. He must have had an unholy amount of practice in order to be this used to such complicated TScript. Then again, it did seem like this kid was on the computer a lot. At least he appeared to be in good hands.  
     He frowned as he began to process the changes in his coding, looking over it. His childcare function was... almost smotheringly strict, and more than a little odd, especially considered his order to near-constantly monitor Noiz's physical wellbeing— even when he was asleep.  
     Maybe he just got into fights a lot. Hm. There were a few differing inputs instructing him to keep Noiz's room clean, as well. He could guess that his intended purpose was purely to take care of Noiz.  
     Once finished, Clear ejected the cord, gently tugging it out from his jugular port. "Thank you, Noiz. I'm going to take good care of you."

     "Yeah." Noiz just snorted, swiveling around in his chair a few times. His body temperature was raising slowly— assumedly, because of the earlier exertion, coupled with all the layers he was wearing.

     "It would be beneficial to remove your overshirt," Clear commented, taking a step back as Noiz kept spinning. "You could start to overheat if you don't."

     "Fine." He was compliant to a level Clear wasn't used to seeing in those of Noiz's age, but nevertheless, the kid let the chair slow to a stop, before he pulled off his overshirt, throwing it onto the floor. He was only getting it dirtier... The robot shook his head, walking around to Noiz's other side. He had kind of expected there to be some sweat residue on the overshirt, but as he picked it up, he noted that it was... perfectly dry. Huh. Noiz had simply gone back to messing around on his computer in his undershirt, though his temperature was still an even ninety-nine degrees. It was just a mild fever; Noiz would probably be fine.  
Clear was still a little worried, though. His behavior was odd, his health was odd, and it put the android in a thick cloud of unease. He was certainly not programmed for... probably at least half of these situations. His coded instructions all revolved around taking care of Noiz and cleaning up after him, though, so he could, at least, say that he was programmed for that.  
     He stopped paying attention to Noiz in order to begin cleaning, starting with the sheer amount of laundry that was littering his room. There was so much of it... did the kid even have any clean clothes left? He could barely see the floor underneath all the trash lying around.  
     His parents really should have taught him how to clean up after himself, he thought, picking up an Usagimodoki and setting it down on the nightstand. Idly, he wondered how many of these the kid had. The ALLmate gave a grateful 'P!' in response, and Clear patted its head(?) before moving on.

     It took half an hour to pick up all of the clothes, collect them into piles based on color and washing directions, and begin the first load downstairs. In that time, Noiz's temperature had raised to 99.5. Still nothing to worry about, since he wasn't displaying any other symptoms of illness. He'd fetch a cold cloth from the kitchen in a bit.  
     Next, he set his sights on the empty bottles and cans, taking them and emptying out the ones that were half-full, before washing out residue from the insides and placing them in an empty trash can and internally marking it as a recycle bin. 99.7 degrees. Noiz hadn't even broken a sweat.

     "Noiz, you're still overheating," he called from the other side of the room. "Please remove your shirt." A pause, before Noiz slipped off his shirt. An undershirt, too, underneath that? Sheesh. "...Thank you, Noiz."  
     No response. Clear, of course, didn't take it to heart, instead making Noiz's bed and cleaning the rest of the miscellaneous junk from the floor, including five different handheld game consoles. Noiz was still fiddling with his computer, flicking between three screens when he wasn't spinning around in his chair, legs kicking. Clear would surely feel dizzy spinning like that. Was he seeking vestibular input?  
     Next, he simply sat down on Noiz's bed. And with no remaining orders to fulfill, besides monitoring Noiz's temperature... he waited.

     And he waited.


End file.
